<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>BlackWolves by Andyrus</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044074">BlackWolves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andyrus/pseuds/Andyrus'>Andyrus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blood and Chocolate (2007), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Polar (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, BlackWolves, Eventual Romance, Fear of Sexuality, Fluff, Hannibal Extended Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of it, M/M, Mutual Pining, Names might not make geographic sense leave me alone, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Denial, Slow Burn, Takes place in Norway, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:54:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andyrus/pseuds/Andyrus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding and dealing with the people who set the contract to order the death of Camille's parents, Duncan Vizla moves away to finally retire in a quiet Norwegian town. At least until he meets a young artist, Aiden Galvin, who has attracted the unwanted love of a local famous gang leader's daughter, Vivian. Her brother and his lackeys continuously harass Aiden to the point of physical violence, angry that he dares reject her. Duncan is faced with the choice of ignoring the situation or getting involved, which previously proved to be a bad idea. </p><p>This is their story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aiden (Blood and Chocolate)/Duncan Vizla | Black Kaiser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>BlackWolves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For months me and my friend have shipped BlackWolves and to know it has recently attracted a lot of attention made us happy, so this is a collab of mine and her's story of Duncan and Aiden, how they met, how they fell in love, etc. This AU is set after the events of Polar and is our own version of the events of Blood and Chocolate. We have many other AUs and versions of them (including omega) which I may or may not post after this is finished. I hope you enjoy the story as much as we did.</p><p>Extra note: you can find my friend/ the co-creator on instagram with the ign infamous_headshaker</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was late in the morning, nearly noon, when Duncan stopped by a rather empty diner. He had come here before, enjoyed the simple breakfast dish they had to offer so he visited again and sat on the exact same stool he occupied last time. He received the usual set of odd looks an old man with a grotesque scar and eyepatch attracted though he paid them no mind.</p><p> </p><p>Gentle steam hovered above the coffee beside his platter of fluffy scrambled eggs and toast, a nice warmth contrasting the perpetual frigid weather outside. He didn’t mind. On the contrary, Duncan liked the cold and snow. He downed his eggs with his drink and sighed in satisfaction.</p><p> </p><p>Peace and quiet.</p><p> </p><p>This is the retired life he wanted. Seems it took moving away across the world to achieve it.</p><p> </p><p>In the corner of his singular healthy eye, Duncan noticed odd movement he should have ignored but curiosity won the inner battle and he turned to look outside the window. There was a boy, barely past eighteen, walking really fast. He was not alone. To the blind eye, it looked like a young adult late for class. Duncan knew better than that. Two, no, three men subtly pursued his tail. The boy was not ignorant to his trackers. He was franticly attempting to lose them. Duncan kept watching until he had gotten out of his field of vision.</p><p> </p><p><em>Do not get involved</em>, Duncan pursed his lips and brought his gaze back to his food. Their body language did not sit well with him. He shoved a mouthful of now cold eggs into his mouth. This was none of his business.</p><p> </p><p>Minutes pass, the bell rang as the diner door opened and in a twist of irony, the subject of his earlier conflict sat on an empty seat two stools from where Duncan resided.</p><p> </p><p>The nice elder waitress who had served him his breakfast tutted.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, honey, are these Loups-Garoux hooligans bothering you again?”</p><p> </p><p><em>Loups-Garoux.</em> A gang name? Duncan listened closely to the conversation. He peeked in time to see the boy give her a meagre, pasted smile. Upon first glance, the boy had a mostly curly and dishevelled head of hair, likely due to his ‘friends’ from earlier. His face was battered; a burst lip, scuffed skin, swollen cheeks and a bruise or two. They did not obscure his soft rosy flush and doe eyes painted in a striking shade of blue, nor hid that his features resembled that of a woman more than a man. Yet he maintained enough masculinity to not be mistaken as one. <em>Pretty</em>, Duncan described him in simpler terms. </p><p> </p><p>“What will it be deary?”</p><p> </p><p>“The regular, please,” the boy says.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be just a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the boy felt the lingering stare on him and Duncan met those mesmerising oceans directly. Most would have looked away in flustered shame to be caught scrutinising a stranger. Duncan did not budge. Neither one of them broke eye contact nor uttered a thing.</p><p> </p><p>“Here you go.” The waitress said, shattering the magnetic spell between them. The boy’s gaze was stolen by the mug full of hot chocolate and a healthy portion of whip cream. For a moment, a very <em>brief</em> moment, Duncan despised that damned drink before rationality whisked him back to his own.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s on me.” She adds. The boy was startled by her words and jerked his head up at her in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“I couldn’t-“</p><p> </p><p>“Aiden, I insist.”</p><p> </p><p>So that was his name. <em>Aiden</em> eased a delicate, fleeting laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“I could never argue with you. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pleasure.”</p><p> </p><p>The room fell silent enough for the sound of metal utensils scraping against ceramics to become prominent. During several occasion, Duncan could tell Aiden was trying to muster a way to talk to him, and he was very much tempted to help him by throwing a remark about the weather. At least until he recalled what happened previously when he had unwisely gotten attached to a wandering youth.</p><p> </p><p>Leaving was far overdue. Duncan rose from his chair and dug through his front pockets to pull out the owned sum of cash for his meal.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Leave. No. Don’t say anything<strong>. Just leave</strong>.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Stay safe.” Duncan grumbled as he walked past from behind Aiden, resolute in not looking back. He did not need to peer over his shoulder to know he had earned a wistful gaze.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Aiden stared outside into the town’s avidly existent nightlife, a mush up of white, blue and orange. He leaned back against the wall of the window seat and in sheer bad habit, absentmindedly chewed on the pencil in his mouth. The gentle breeze ruffled through his hair from the wide-open glass, eliciting a shiver and goosebumps along his short-sleeved arms.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay safe…” He repeated in a drawled out, distant voice and peered back down onto the canvas prompted up against his knees. The paper was littered with his newest sketching muse, revised purely from his brief memory. For a change, the subject was not a wolf but a unique man with an enigmatic face, greying hair, a dark, salient moustache, a scar that’s placement told a story of its own, and an eyepatch.  </p><p> </p><p>To say the man had caught his attention was an understatement. He was as mysterious as he was hard to approach, with an aura that warded off any friendly reach. Maybe that was why the usually nosy Aiden was too much of a coward to talk to him.</p><p> </p><p><em>A lone wolf</em>, Aiden thought, brushing his thumb across the outline of his most recent drawing as the corners of his lips curve up in an ever-widening smile. For a while, he had been struggling on finding a new character for his graphic novel. But his inspiration had found him.</p><p> </p><p>He only wished he had learned his name.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>